


semi-charmed life

by punkjuggie



Series: south side verse [1]
Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Aromantic Asexual Jughead Jones, F/F, Fluff, Foster Care, High School, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Witchcraft, qp jarchie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkjuggie/pseuds/punkjuggie
Summary: When Jughead moves out of Riverdale — away from home, Archie and the Sweet Water river — he doesn't know what to expect. Needless to say, the weird Spellman kid obsessed with magic tricks and his archenemy making small talk over breakfast is not what he had pictured.He thinks maybe life could be charming in the most unexpected ways.





	1. jughead

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you guys follow me on tumblr, you might know that I've been obsessing about this idea for a while: Jughead and Cheryl both ending up living under the same roof in a foster home. I think they have a great frenemy dynamics that should be explored a bit more and this is what this fic is all about. Also, bonus chebrina because I really want Cheryl to kiss girls.
> 
> This is canon-divergent, meaning that it is set post-season 1 except that Bughead and Varchie never happened because Jughead is aroace, thank you very much. 
> 
> Also huge thanks to my beta [Cameron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity) who made this fic so much better and my life so much easier. Go give them some love. You can also talk to me on tumblr @punkjuggie.

 

The first morning Jughead woke up in the Spellman’s house, he had tears streaming down his face and a half choked sob stuck in his throat. The room was dark except for the soft sunlight filtered by the blinds, indicating him that the sun had risen but the house was completely silent. He turned on the lamp on his bedside table, looking for the glass of water Mrs. Spellman had brought him the night before and the box of tissues he had seen before he had fallen asleep. He patted the tissue on his face, trying to hide the evidence of yet another nightmare and reached for the water. His mouth was dry and the water gave him some relief but there was still a knot in the back of his throat that made it hard to breath.

  


Once the glass was empty, Jughead turned off the lamp, replacing its light by the glow of his phone.

 

_6:21 am._

 

He didn’t have to be up for school for at least another 40 minutes but Jughead knew that finding sleep again would be a hard feat. The fact that he had even slept at all in the first place was surprising. He looked around the dark room, _his_ room. He had a double bed, with nice sheets and a warm comforter. He had drawers, too many for so little clothes. When the other Mrs. Spellman had asked him if he had enough space for his belongings, Jughead had nodded, cheeks flaming up in embarrassment that he actually had _too much_ space. Everything he owned had always fitted in a backpack after all.

 

The room was big, or big by Jughead’s standards anyway. But all the empty space just made him ache for the tiny room he had shared with Archie. He owned a big, very comfortable bed now but he still thought back wistfully to his air mattress on the floor, playing video games with his best friend and having secret conversations in the dark, way past lights out.

 

He missed Archie. His friend had assured him nothing would ever change between them, even if they each lived on a different side of town. Even if Jughead was now a part of the Southside High crowd, alone, all by himself. He had not been immensely popular back at Riverdale but he’d always had Betty and Archie that had his back. Now, for the first time, he felt truly alone.

 

He grabbed his phone again. _6:30 am._ He looked up at the ceiling. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pretend he was looking up at Archie’s ceiling, almost hearing the snores that came from his friend on the bed. If he concentrated hard enough, he could stop the nauseating feeling he had in his gut and he could pretend everything was alright.

 

Before he could stop himself, Jughead’s thumb brushed over the contacts button on his phone.

 

 _Hey buddy, you’re probably not awake yet,_ he pressed send.

 

He dropped the phone on his chest, and closed his eyes. Things could have been different, he thought. His dad could have never ended up in jail. His mom could have wanted him to come with her and Jellybean in Toledo. He could have stayed in the Andrews’ residence, the only place that had felt like home in a long time.

 

Life wasn’t meant to be easy, that’s what his dad had always told him. If life were easy, there would be no reason for our existence. No stories to tell.

 

“People don’t wanna hear about the american apple pie life, Jug. You’ve gotta write stories about struggle, about challenges. You’ve gotta write about pain and sorrow. This is the only thing that everyone can relate to. Everyone’s been miserable, and all the others are just liars.”

 

His dad had never been a top class student, or a man of many words, but that night, Jughead had thought his dad was the most eloquent man on Earth.

 

Growing up, Jughead realised he had also been right.

 

He picked up his phone. _6:45 am._

 

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Across the room, he spotted the leather jacket thrown over a chair and his chest tightened up.

 

 _I miss you_ , he typed quickly. He didn’t press send.

 

~

Jughead first met the South Side family a week prior to moving in with them. They had invited him to dinner to which the social worker strongly implied he had no other choice but to attend.

 

Despite being from the wrong side of the tracks, the Spellmans looked liked any other loving and functional families. With everything that’d happened this last year, Jughead wondered if he had not been lied to his whole life and if Riverdale was actually the seedy, dangerous part of town.

 

The Spellmans consisted of two sisters, Hilda and Zelda, and their teenage niece. Zelda Spellman was sweet and liked to spend time cooking and crocheting. She had greying hair that she wore up in a bun most of the time and a warm smile. Her sister, Hilda, was more blunt and liked to crack jokes. She wasn’t walking on eggshells around him and Jughead appreciated it. She was shorter, and her curly blond hair fell just above her shoulder. The two sisters had playful banter that reminded him of his time spent with Jellybean when he had been younger. He hadn’t realised how much he ached to have his sister back with him.

 

The teenage girl, Sabrina, was quiet. Jughead liked that. Her hair was bleached and her bangs partly covered the top of her face but he could make out mesmerizing grey eyes. There was a glint to her eyes, like she already knew all the secrets there was to know about him without him saying a word. Jughead felt uneasy, even as she had smiled almost sweetly towards him. He had held her gaze for some time, as though there had been a silent conversation between them without him being aware of it. She was weird and Jughead could relate.

 

“I hope you won’t mind living in a house full of girls!” Hilda had said, laughing gleefully.

 

“I used to live in a maintenance closet for a while. Can’t be worse than that,” Jughead had replied, raising one eyebrow in defiance. To his surprise, Sabrina had snorted from across the table.

 

“Well, aren’t you just the real life Harry Potter,” she had commented, stabbing at her piece of meat. “Are you gonna tell us that you’re a wizard?” she had asked with a smirk.

 

Jughead had chuckled but before he could reply, Zelda had cleared her throat, glaring at her niece. “That’s enough Sabrina,” she had muttered, her voice low and almost conspiratory. Sabrina had simply rolled her eyes.

 

The dining room had been filled with only the sound of forks and knives against plates for a while after that. Jughead hadn’t understood the sudden tension, but he’d had no intention to comment on it.

 

“Anyways,” Hilda’s voice had cut through the silence. “I hope you’ll find your room to your liking.”

 

“And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re as much home here as we are,” Zelda had continued, her smile sugary sweet like the maple syrup that had cursed his town.

 

Jughead had remembered the last place he had considered home, with Archie and his dad and his stomach had suddenly felt heavy. Jughead had lost his appetite and the lump in his throat had made it hard to speak so instead, he had nodded and croaked out a little “thanks” before excusing himself.

 

On his way to the bathroom, a black cat that Jughead hadn’t noticed before had started to follow him. The soft purring of the cat had somehow made breathing a little easier and Jughead had felt his heart rate slow back down, no longer on the verge of a panic attack.

 

“Who are you?” Jughead had asked the cat. As he’d crouched down to pet him, Jughead had taken sight of his silver collar on which was engraved with the name _Salem_.

 

“Huh, Salem. Like the witches,” Jughead had whispered, a small smile forming on his lips. “Am I gonna be alright, Salem?” he had wondered out loud and to his surprise, the cat had bumped his head against his leg and purred even louder.

 

Jughead had smiled a little wider

 

~

Southside High was everything Riverdale High was not. Where his former high school tried to go for the small town look, warm and welcoming, with their closed community, its Southside counterpart seemed to aim for the opposite. The hallways were dark and the faded colors on the walls were peeling. The windows were scarced and the few they had were so dirty and grimy, it was impossible to see what was on the other side.

 

It was a much larger school, with a lot more students than they had back at Riverdale. Jughead roamed the halls, going from one classroom to another, the faces unfamiliar and, eventually, all blurring one into another.

 

Lunch time was a mess of loud voices talking over each other and microwaves beeping on the other side of the cafeteria. The tables were mainly all occupied by different groups of friends Jughead had no intention joining. As he headed towards the back of the room where a few tables were still empty except for the odd students eating alone, he felt the eyes of a group of kids with matching leather jackets glued to him. He ignored them, setting his tray of food on a table but it was harder to ignore the dread that had suddenly filled his stomach. The design sewed in the back of their jacket was the same one that decorated his own, the one he left on the back of a chair back in the Spellman’s house.

 

“Don’t mind them,” Sabrina said, dropping in the seat across from him, uninvited.

 

“Uh, sure, join me why don’t you,” Jughead told her dryly, ignoring her comment.

 

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “I should be the one telling you this. You’re sitting in my spot, Harry Potter.”

 

Jughead looked around with a raised eyebrow, noting the empty chairs around him. “Your spot? This table is empty. Don’t you have any friends?”

 

He meant it as a joke but as if on cue, a group of girls approached their table. A girl with long brown hair held up with a barrette stopped in front of Sabrina, looking down at her.

 

“Look everyone, Spellman made a friend!” she said to the girls standing behind her, her tone mocking. She shifted her gaze to Jughead, looking at him from head to toe, disdain clear on her face. “Another freak, just like her. You know what they say, ‘birds of a feather flock together’.”

 

Sabrina smiled tightly. “That’s very charming Libby, but aren’t you gonna be late?”

 

The girl, Libby, turned from Jughead to glare at Sabrina. “What are you talking about?”

 

Sabrina smirked. “I heard there was a meeting in the auditorium. Something about a support group… what was it Jug?”

 

Jughead, though confused at first, caught on pretty quickly with Sabrina’s intentions. “I believe it was a support group for students who have had or currently have chlamydia. Ain’t that right, Sabrina?”

 

Sabrina nodded, trying but failing to keep a straight face as Libby’s face turned bright red, her eyes wide with fury.

 

“Why would-,” she stopped herself when some of her friends cautiously took a step back. “I don’t have a nasty disease, you _heathens_! Why would you assume I’d go?”

 

Sabrina shrugged. “You’ve been getting quite chummy with Harvey and everyone has heard the rumors...but you have nothing to be ashamed of! It can happen to the best of us,” Sabrina said, a fake smile on her face to match the fake sympathy in her voice.

 

Libby rolled her eyes. “Whatever, _losers_. Why don’t you go back to your witchcraft Spellman. Maybe try a spell that’ll make you and your weirdo friend relevant, huh?” She laughed cruelly, joined by the others as they stepped away from their table.

 

“Witchcraft, huh? And then _I’m_ supposed to be Harry Potter?” Jughead commented, stealing a fry off Sabrina’s tray.

 

“Yeah, some kids back in middle school started calling me a witch and I guess it stuck,” she explained vaguely, slapping Jughead’s hand away when he tried for another fry.

 

“Here’s to us,” Jughead smiled, raising his box of apple juice. “Harry Potter and the teenage witch, official freaks of Southside High.”

 

Sabrina scoffed lightly then grinned, mimicking Jughead with her bottle of water. “Cheers.”

 

~

 

Back in Riverdale, Jughead would spend most of his nights working on his novel at Pop’s or playing video games with Archie. It had become almost a routine, a familiarity he had taken for granted. Now that he was on the other side of town, things were different. There was a diner, not too far from the Spellman’s house, but it was always crowded with strangers in leather jackets.

 

Instead, Jughead spent time in his room and despite spending most of his time in there, Jughead had made no efforts to decorate it or make it his own. The walls were bare and and his desk was empty, except for his laptop. There were no photographs, no posters, nothing that could indicate that someone was actually living in here. The thought of making himself comfortable made him uneasy.

 

Jughead was sitting on the bed when his phone went off, Archie’s name displayed on the screen. With a shaking hand, he pressed the green button and brought the phone to his ear.

 

“Archie?” he answered.

 

“ _Hey buddy!_ ” Archie’s voice on the other line was a soothing sound, filling Jughead with warmth and affection, just like a security blanket. Jughead hadn’t noticed how empty and cold he felt before that moment. Hearing Archie’s voice felt like home.

 

_“How’s it going?”_

 

Jughead smiled. “Not too bad. I’m...adapting.”

 

“ _That’s good! Right?_ ” his friend asked, unsure.

 

Jughead pulled at a loose thread on his jeans. “Yeah, it’s good.”

 

“ _Are the kids nice over at your new school?_ ” Archie asked him and Jughead huffed out a laugh.

 

“Yes, _dad,_ ” he replied, sarcasm lacing the words. He could picture Archie rolling his eyes on the other side of town. “You know me, I didn’t really talk to anyone. The girl I’m living with is nice. I sat with her at lunch.”

 

“ _That’s cool. What’s her name?_ ”

 

“Sabrina. She’s kind of weird, so we get along fine,” he joked. The warmth in his ribcage spread out when he heard Archie’s laugh. He decided that didn’t mean anything.

 

“ _I’m sure you do. Not too fine though, you already have a best friend,_ ” Archie teased.

 

“Yeah, I do.” Jughead ripped the thread. “How are things back at Riverdale?” _Back home_ , he almost said.

 

Archie sighed. “ _They’re…settling in. Betty and Polly are trying to fix their family. Veronica’s dad is getting out of jail and she’s not sure she’s happy about it. Cheryl burned down Thornhill and might be moving out of town because her mom is crazy. Kevin is heart-broken. He really misses Joaquin_ ,” he trailed off.

 

There was a beat of silence. “What about you?” Jughead asked quietly.

 

The silence stretched out, magnifying the distance between them.

 

“ _I really miss you, Jug._ ”

 

The silence was deafening, and Jughead was painfully aware of every second passing where not a word was uttered. The breath he finally released, shaky, seemed as loud as the thunder of his heart.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed out again. “I really miss you too, Arch,” he near-whispered in the phone, the confession floating easily from his lips. It felt good to actually say it out loud.

 

“ _I was thinking…_ ”

 

Jughead chuckled. “Uh oh, that’s not always a good sign.”

 

Archie huffed out a laugh as well. “ _Shut up, Jug. Seriously, I was thinking maybe we could go on that road trip this summer. My mom wants me to visit, and she’d be more than happy to see you too. What do you think?_ ”

 

Jughead smiled. “That would be nice. Escape all the Riverdale drama for a little while.”

 

“ _Just you, me, and the open road, buddy,_ ” Archie said, excitement punctuating his words. “ _And, you know,_ ” he cleared his throat, voice suddenly quieter, “ _I wouldn’t let you down this time._ ”

 

“Archie,” Jughead sighed and closed his eyes. “That’s in the past now. You more than make up for it this past year. I mean,” he squeezed his eyes, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “You gave me a home, you know? You were there for me when no one else was. You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself.”

He could hear Archie breathing, slowly and quietly. “ _Yeah, you’re right,_ ” he let out.

 

“You may be strong, but you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulder. Sooner or later, it’s gonna crush you,” Jughead insisted.

 

“ _Better me than you, Jug,_ ” Archie replied and Jughead wanted to argue, wanted to say _no,_ but the words were stuck in his throat. “ _I’ve gotta go, talk to you later._ ”

 

The line went flat before he could say goodbye.

 

Jughead huddled under the blankets. His world was cold again.

 

~

 

“Are you not gonna ask me why I ended up living here?” Jughead asked, not looking up to meet Sabrina’s eyes.

The two of them were sat on his bed, working in silence on their calculus homework for the most part of the hour. Sabrina had barged in, complaining that the numbers were killing her and Jughead really had no choice but to let her in and help her out. Although, if he was being honest, her company was appreciated.

 

Jughead didn’t make friends easily and his new life on the South Side was no exception.

 

Sabrina looked up from her notebook and brought her pencil up to brush her bangs away from her face. “Are you not gonna ask me why I live with my two aunts instead of my parents?” she replied and when Jughead finally met her eyes, her eyebrow was raised, almost challenging him.

 

Jughead smirked. “Touché,” he conceded, and turned back to his math problem.

 

Sabrina sighed, and closed her book before sitting up straighter. “Look, I won’t ask questions you don’t wanna answer. I expect the same.”

 

Jughead looked at her. She had secrets she intended to keep and so did he. He was more than alright with that.

 

“Enough math for today,” she decided, and grabbed her stuff before leaving the room.

Jughead was happy to comply but worried that he made her uncomfortable, drove her away. People had always been so nosy in Riverdale and he had expected the same from here. His felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest, maybe he had crossed some boundaries.

 

He tried to ignore the fact that he suddenly couldn’t breathe right and grabbed his laptop that had been laying next to him. Everything had been going great,they were helping each other out with homework and he had to open his mouth and make it weird. He was replaying the scene in his mind, flinching at his own idiocy when Sabrina strutted right back in the room and dropped down on his bed.

 

“You alright?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.  “You look awfully pale.”

 

“I thought you said we were done with homework?” he said, his voice shaking against his will.

 

“We are, my brain is gonna burst,” she bemoaned. “Doesn’t mean we can’t hangout, right?”

 

She smiled and the weight that had wrapped itself around his heart was suddenly gone. He could breathe properly again.

 

“Right,” he smiled.

 

“So,” she looked around the room. “What do you do for fun?”

 

“I’m a writer,” Jughead told her.

 

“Like sci-fi or fantasy, that kind of stuff?” she asked him and Jughead was surprised to find that she actually seemed interested. Back in Riverdale, people never really bothered asking about his work.

 

“Uh no, horror actually. I was writing about the murder of that Blossom kid but things got…too real,” he explained vaguely. He remembered that night, the grainy video where they clearly saw Clifford Blossom firing a bullet between his own son’s eyes. Betty calling Cheryl to get out of Thornhill. Cheryl falling through the ice.  A chill ran down his spine.

 

“So what are you gonna write about now?” Sabrina’s voice cut through the dark memory and brought him back to the present.

 

Jughead shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

 

He turned his head back to his dresser where he knew the spider brooch was sitting in the top drawer, hidden under a pile of clothes Jughead knew he didn’t wear. He could not look at it without the pang of guilt. He tore his gaze away and looked back at Sabrina.

 

“What about you?” he asked.

 

“Me?” Sabrina chuckled. “Oh, I don’t write.”

 

“No, I mean what do _you_ do for fun?” Jughead clarified.

 

“Oh!” Sabrina grinned. “Magic.”

 

Jughead blinked. “Uh,” he said. His mind flashed back to the lunch hall, earlier this week, when the kids kept calling Sabrina a witch. “Like spells? And curses?”

 

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to call me a witch too?” she asked and when Jughead opened his mouth to reply she cut him off. “No!”

 

“I mean, your cat is named Salem,” he pointed out.

 

“He’s a black cat. Duh,” she argued. Jughead didn’t push any further.

 

“So, magic?” he asked again.

Sabrina nodded, a big smile lighting up her face. “Yeah! Magic tricks. Here,” she said, a deck of card in her hand that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

 

She passed the deck to Jughead so he could shuffle the cards and make sure they weren’t rigged. When Jughead deemed them legit and sufficiently shuffled, he handed the deck back to Sabrina.

 

“Okay,” she said, fanning the cards in front of Jughead. “Pick one.”  


Jughead took a card in the middle. The three of ace.

 

“Got it?” Sabrina asked him. “Now put it back wherever you want.”

 

Jughead did, and watched skeptically as Sabrina shuffled the cards once more, his three of ace lost in the middle of it all. She set it down on the bed, cutting it in half. She reached for the card on top of the bottom half. Jughead held his breath as she lifted up the card.

 

“Was this your card?” she asked triumphantly.  

 

In her hands was the queen of hearts.

 

Jughead, uncharastically enough, bursted out laughing, falling backwards on the bed. He could see Sabrina’s shoulders droop and but a small smile was forming on her lips as she scratched her head, confused, and she chuckled along soon enough.

 

“No offense Sab,” Jughead said when he calmed down enough. “But you suck at magic.”

 

Sabrina lightly punched him on the arm. “Shut up, Edgar Allan Poe.” She furrowed her eyebrows in concentration as she started to shuffle the cards once more. “I’m still learning.”

 

Jughead nodded, and only the sound of the cards filled the room for a moment. Jughead wondered if maybe life could be that simple. Summer road trips with his best friend and failed magic tricks with the weird Spellman girl.

 

Perhaps life could be this simple.   

 

~

 

The news came on Sunday, when Jughead had been living with the Spellman for a little over a week.

 

“We may have to foster another kid,” Zelda said over dinner, her tone careful.

 

Sabrina midway into cutting her steak in half, stopped. Jughead, who had been reaching for the salt in the middle of the table, sat back down in his seat.

 

Hilda cleared her throat. “What she means is that there is another kid in need of a safe home and we were thinking about bringing her in,” she added, as explanation.

 

“What do you mean another kid?” Sabrina asked. “Jughead _just_ moved in with us, can’t they give us a break? Let him settle in!”

 

“Sab, it’s fine-” Jughead began, but Sabrina cut him off.

 

“It is absolutely not fine! Isn’t there anyone else who can take her in?” Sabrina asked.

 

Jughead gazed down at his hands in his lap, wringing them together. He did see where Sabrina was coming from. It must have been weird to have her house filled with strangers, taking up the empty space that she grew up in. Even Jughead, who had only been there himself a few days, felt uneasy about having to share his new home with someone new.

 

However, Hilda did mention that this kid needed somewhere to live, and Jughead could understand that. The Spellmans, so far, had been very welcoming and made the whole transition a lot easier for him. Sabrina had also a big part to play in that, hanging out with him at school, showing him the way around town. Just being a friend. Jughead had begun to feel comfortable with this living arrangement and didn’t completely loathe it like thought he would. He wasn’t eager for someone to come in and possibly ruin it for him but he also couldn’t be selfish and deny a kid’s need of a home because he got there first.

 

“No, Sabrina,” Hilda replied firmly. “There is no one else. We are apparently the only family in the area ready to give this child a home. If we don’t, she’ll have to move to another county, away from her friends and everything she’s ever known. Does that sound fair to you?”

 

Sabrina idly moved some food in her plate with her fork, refusing to meet her aunt’s eyes. Jughead finally raised his head to watch them nervously. “No,” she finally said. “No, it’s not fair.”  


“We know this is not an ideal situation, but you guys have been getting along, haven’t you?” Zelda asked. Jughead and Sabrina nodded silently. “Well, what’s one more!”

 

“I’m okay with this as long as Jughead is also fine with this decision,” Sabrina said and turned her head to look at him. “Are you fine with this?” she asked him.

 

Jughead almost smiled. A few months back he had been living in a closet in his school and now he was sitting at a dinner table, making family decisions on the other side of town. “Of course I am,” he said. “If someone else is in need, we have to help.”

 

Zelda smiled brightly. “That’s wonderful, Jughead. Thank you.”

 

“And Jughead, you might know the girl,” Hilda said, a mouthful of vegetables. She swallowed when Zelda glared at her from across the table. “She’s also from Riverdale!”

 

Jughead frowned, his mind reeling. A girl from Riverdale, suddenly homeless, who had no close relatives to take her in. Jughead felt as though he would have known if someone was in the same situation as him. Hell, it was such a small town, Jughead felt like people would have been talking about it. Archie would’ve told him on one of their many phonecalls.

 

“Yes, poor girl. She lost her brother and her father within the same year. Although, her father turned out to be a murderer so not much of a loss, but still. That must’ve been traumatizing,” Zelda rambled on but Jughead tuned her out.

 

 _Cheryl burned down Thornhill and might be moving out of town,_ Archie had told him. Jughead suddenly felt sick and closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, there was ice, everywhere. Everything was white, almost blinding, except for a spot of red. In the distance, Cheryl Blossom, standing on the frozen Sweet Water river. She smiled, a chilling sight and then suddenly, she was gone.

 

“What’s her name anyway?” he heard Sabrina ask.

 

Jughead braced himself.

 

“Cheryl Blossom.”


	2. cheryl

There was something beautifully ironic about watching Thornhill burn down in flames after almost dying trapped under ice. Her mother’s screams behind her were barely a distraction from the scene taking place before her eyes. 

 

Everyone around town had always said that the Thornhill mansion was haunted, and in the end Cheryl figured they must have been right. 

 

The cold winter wind bit at her skin, but the fire eating the walls she once called her home was enough to keep her warm. For the first time in a while, she felt free. 

 

~

 

_ “We feel as though your mother is not suited to take care of you anymore,” _ the lady at the police station had told her.  _ “Are there any relatives that could take you in?” _

 

Sitting at the desk, a blanket draped over her shoulders and soot still covering her face, Cheryl had thought of Polly Cooper and the babies she was carrying. Those two, her brother’s unborn children, were the only relatives she could actually trust. 

 

_ “I have no one,” _ Cheryl had told her, her voice monotone and devoid of any emotion. 

 

Which was how she ended up in front of an average looking house outside of Riverdale, a small suitcase trailing behind her. Most of possession had perished in the fire. Cheryl Blossom was starting anew. 

 

The front door flew open as soon as she had rung the bell, a small woman standing in front of her. “You must be Cheryl! Come on in darling, let’s get you out of the cold,” she said cheerfully, and Cheryl smiled politely as she stepped in. 

 

The house was small by Cheryl’s standards, but it wasn’t cramped. The walls were a warm colour and the cozy decoration choices almost made Cheryl forget about the gothic nightmare she had lived in all her life. Several picture frames up on the walls or set on shelves depicted two middle-aged women and a blonde girl. They were smiling at the camera, no matter the setting. This was probably what a happy, functioning family looked like. 

 

“I’m Hilda, welcome to our humble home,” she said. Cheryl tore her eyes away from the picture and back to the woman in the foyer. “I’m gonna show you up to your room and let you settle in,” she said, heading to the stairs. “Dinner should be ready soon and you’ll get to meet the whole gang.”

 

“Thank you,” Cheryl said softly, following Hilda up the stairs. 

 

Her room was on the first floor, next to what appeared to be a small bathroom and a closed door, which Cheryl assumed was another bedroom. 

 

“This bathroom is for you and my niece Sabrina. My sister and I are upstairs and there’s a boy in a room downstairs,” she explained, and Cheryl nodded as Hilda opened the door to reveal her room. 

 

There was nothing grandiose about the bedroom, just the basic essentials. The queen-sized bed was covered by a white comforter to match the pearly-white dresser in the corner. There was a lamp sitting on a desk, a mirror up on the wall, and two tables on each side of the bed. Basic essentials. 

 

The white reminded Cheryl of that dress she had worn on that dreadful day when she had last seen her brother. The same dress she had worn when she sunk beneath the ice into the Sweetwater river. Cheryl had been glad to let it burn in the midst of the fire. 

 

“I’ll send someone to get you when dinner's ready,” Hilda told her before turning away, leaving Cheryl alone in her new room. 

 

Cheryl sighed and sat down on her bed, ignoring the squeaking sound the mattress made under her weight. “Look at you now, Cheryl Blossom,” she whispered quietly to herself. This couldn’t be worse than the boarding school her mom had planned to send her to, but it wasn’t ideal either. 

 

She unzipped her luggage and starting putting away the few clothing items she had saved from the fire, the strict necessities. After all, Cheryl Blossom was starting anew. As she grabbed her make-up bag to put it in a drawer by her bed, she paused. Hesitantly, she reached into the case to grab her lipstick. 

 

_ “My lipstick's maple red, by the way. In case you're wondering why it tastes so sweet.”  _ Perhaps some things just never changed. 

 

~

 

Cheryl paused, in the middle of folding some shirts when a knock came on her door. “Come in,” she said, setting the clothes aside. 

 

A short girl, with pale skin and grey eyes stood in her doorway. Her blonde hair fell just above her shoulders, and the jaded attitude reminded Cheryl of the girl she used to be not too long ago. The girl had a black dress worn over washed-out white tee and Cheryl loved that she didn’t seem to care what first impression she made. Cheryl wished she could also stop caring. Maybe life would be easier that way. 

 

“So dinner’s ready,” she said, her voice even and nonchalant. “I’m Sabrina, by the way.”

 

“Sabrina,” Cheryl repeated, matching a face to the name Hilda had mentioned earlier. “Nice to meet you, I’m Cheryl,” with a few steps, she closed the distance between them, extending her hand in greeting. 

 

Sabrina smirked. “We’re not two forty somethings, you don’t have to be so formal,” she commented, but shook the hand that was offered nonetheless. 

 

“I’m just trying to be polite,” Cheryl replied and tried to ignore the fact that she could feel her cheeks heat up. She had no idea what she was so suddenly embarrassed about, Sabrina just made her feel...inadequate. Blossoms never felt inadequate. 

 

“Well,  _ princess _ ,” Sabrina teased. “You don’t live in a castle anymore, you don’t have to play by those rules. Just...try to act normal.”

 

Cheryl was taken aback. She spent her whole life under her mother’s scrutiny and on the receiving end of her father’s disappointed head shakes. She hadn’t realised that she didn’t know how else to live. 

 

“I can be normal,” she said but it sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. 

 

Sabrina chuckled dryly. “Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed. “You’ll figure it out. But first, we eat.” 

 

And with that, she turned on her heels and went down the stairs without looking back to see if Cheryl followed. Very few people had managed to stun Cheryl Blossom and Sabrina Spellman was  _ not  _ one of those. Cheryl was just caught off guard. 

 

“Juggie, dinner is ready!” Sabrina shouted once she stepped off the stairs and led Cheryl to the dining room. 

 

Realisation dawned upon Cheryl as she took a seat next to Sabrina but instead of wide eyes and an opened, shocked mouth, Cheryl fought to keep her facial expressions as neutral as possible.  _ Juggie  _ was not a common nickname, and even though she didn’t know anyone on the South Side, she had definitely heard this name before: in the halls of Riverdale High, at Pop’s diner waiting for her milkshake, on the lips of Archie Andrews. 

 

_ “ _ _ There’s a boy in a room downstairs,”  _ Hilda had said and Cheryl had thought nothing of it. FP was in prison for covering the murder of Jason and Mr. Andrews didn’t have the means to officially take care of anyone else beside his own son. No one in Riverdale wanted to take in the son of a South Side Serpent. 

 

Jughead Jones appeared in the small dining room and even though Cheryl had figured it out, she still could not believe it. 

 

“Hello Cheryl,” he said, his voice not unkind but not friendly either. In fact, there was no emotion in his voice. “It’s great to have you here,” he added as he walked to his own seat at the table, across from Sabrina. 

 

“I am very grateful to be here as well,” Cheryl replied and mentally congratulated herself for keeping her voice levelled, speaking the words without trembling. She was so concentrated on Jughead’s presence, she missed Sabrina roll her eyes. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” she said. A woman Cheryl hadn’t met yet came in at this moment with a plate of ham, glaring at Sabrina. 

 

“Sabrina, don’t be rude,” she said, setting the food on the table and smiling at Cheryl. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us dear. I’m Zelda.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Cheryl smiled. “It’s a wonderful house you have.”

 

Sabrina groaned beside her and she noticed Jughead smirk slightly. 

 

“Thank you, Cheryl,” Zelda said while cutting the piece of ham. 

 

Hilda and Zelda made small talk but Cheryl tuned them out as soon as she took her first bite. The ham was sweet, the taste of maple syrup undisputable. She wondered if this was the Blossom’s syrup, the one that had broken up her family and cursed her town. As she swallowed, she realised that sugar had never tasted so bitter. 

 

“So, you and Jughead are both from Riverdale!” Hilda pointed out. “Did you know each other?”

 

Cheryl was put on the spot and she froze. Had they known each other? Cheryl had spent years either tormenting or ignoring the boy, up until this year where she actually humiliated him in front of the whole school when all he did was apologize for a crime he didn’t commit. The last time she had seen Jughead Jones, his face had been a mix of concern, pity and horror as he’d watched her sink in the Sweetwater river. 

 

And now, they were expected to eat dinner and have a conversation and act  _ normal?  _ Cheryl wasn’t sure she had it in her. Fortunately, Jughead took matters in his own hands. 

 

“Yeah, we went to the same school, had a couple classes together. It’s a small town, you know? We never really talked,” he lied and Cheryl was relieved. As much as she hated to admit it, she owed him. 

 

“Well, looks like faith threw you together!” Zelda said and Cheryl smiled tightly, although it never reached her eyes. She glanced down at her plate, practically untouched. On the other side of the table, Jughead didn’t say a thing either. 

 

If this was faith — losing her brother, finding out her father was a murderer, being estranged from her family — then maybe life was just cruel. Cheryl wondered if maybe she had it coming. 

 

~

 

Cheryl had thought that walking the halls of her new school without her vixens following her around would feel lonely. She realised that she felt the same as she did all year. Maybe she’d been lonely all along. 

 

It was a bit overwhelming walking in a sea of unfamiliar faces, when no one looked at her twice and no one knew her name. She used to be the queen of Riverdale High and now she was just another sophomore, on her way to class. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 

 

“How’s it going princess?” Sabrina greeted her smoothly, appearing suddenly at her side. 

 

Cheryl huffed, cheeks tinged pink. “Will you stop calling me that?” 

 

Sabrina smirked. She had opted for a dark mauve lipstick this morning, a huge contrast with her very pale skin. Cheryl liked it. “You don’t like princess? Maybe you’re actually the Queen.”

 

Cheryl’s heart sank. Jason and her used to reign supreme. “I’m neither of those. I’m just me now.  _ Normal  _ Cheryl Blossom, right?” 

 

“Normal is subjective, I guess. No one in here thinks I’m normal, and that’s fine with me,” she shrugged. 

 

Cheryl frowned. “Why would I have to act normal then?” 

 

Sabrina shook her head. “I meant, you don’t have to be all politeness and impeccable manners. You’re sixteen, so just act like a normal teenager.”

 

Cheryl had been told all her life to fit a certain image, a certain excellence, to not embarrass the Blossom name. She never really had the chance the be a child. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to be boring,” Sabrina added. “Just be you.”

 

That was when Cheryl realised she had no idea who she was. The realisation hit her hard and she lost focus, her vision blurring and her chest heaving. Her life had been a fraud. Her mom and dad turned her into what they’d hoped would be the perfect daughter. Compliant, beautiful and braindead. They had not planned that taking away Jason would break her, but Cheryl broke and they all went down with her. They went down but they forgot to tell her who she truly was.  

 

Cheryl didn’t know who she truly was. She tried to breathe in but her lungs wouldn’t fill up so instead, she exhaled air that she didn’t have. 

 

“Are you alright?” Sabrina’s voice reeled her back in but she couldn’t open her mouth to reply. Instead, she shook her head. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

 

Sabrina’s hand around her wrist was like an anchor, not in the sense of sinking but grounding her in reality. Sabrina pulled her out of the crowded hallway and soon after, they were out the front door. 

 

“Where are we going?” Cheryl asked once they were outside. The relative quietness and fresh spring air made it easier to breathe. Sabrina’s fingers still wrapped around her may also have had something to do with it. “We’re gonna miss fourth period.”

 

“Yeah, we’re skipping it.” 

 

The way Sabrina said it sounded so casual and calm that Cheryl didn’t even argue. Instead, she silently followed her wherever she was going. Cheryl was used to being the one in charge but for once, she let herself be taken away. 

 

Once they were definitely not on school grounds anymore, Sabrina let go of her and Cheryl somehow missed the pressure and warmth against her skin. She didn’t say anything though. Neither of them did but they kept walking side by side, arms just shy of brushing together. 

 

Sabrina broke the silence first. “You wanna dance?”

 

Cheryl frowned, confused. “Dance?” 

 

Sabrina smirked, and then stopped, standing in front of a building. A tacky neon sign flashed  _ MacFly  _ above the wooden door and the windows were tinted black. The cement façade really wrapped the whole thing together, creating the creepy and sinister vibes the place gave off. 

 

“This,” Cheryl said, pointing to the building Sabrina was seemingly proudly showing off, “looks like a warehouse where people get murdered.” 

 

Sabrina raised her eyebrows, surprised, and then she laughed. “Oh, Cheryl,” she wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pushing her towards the entrance. “You’ve got it all wrong. This dump is the perfect getaway when you need to escape the hell that is high school.” 

 

The lights inside were dimmed but the place was lit up by the bright colours of the arcade games pushed against the walls and lined up in the middle of the room. The music of each machine created a cacophony that made Cheryl feel at ease. As a kid, Jason and her never really got to spend much time playing video games or hanging at the arcade with friends, but once a year, when they visited their cousins in New-York, they had a whole day dedicated to putting coins in the machines, eating sour candies and simply being kids. 

 

One chiptune in particular caught her attention and she spun around to find the orange and blue guns, sitting peacefully in their slots while the pixelated duck flew around the screen. Duck Hunt was always Jason’s favourite for some reason, and even though Cheryl was terrible at shooting the ducks, she always played along with him just to see him smile when he won. 

 

“Hey,” Sabrina said softly, pulling Cheryl out of her reverie. “You ready for that dance-off?” 

 

Cheryl’s gaze went over Sabrina’s shoulder to find the Dance Dance Revolution machine, some pop music blasting out of the speakers and the arrows glowing up on the platform. 

 

“I must warn you though, I’m totally gonna kick your ass,” Sabrina grinned and walked away towards the game. 

 

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Cheryl called out. 

 

Sabrina raised an eyebrow. “It sure is, princess. Tell you what: whoever wins the three rounds has to buy the other one a big slurpee.” 

 

Sabrina had already hopped on the dance platform, and Cheryl watched her take off her jacket and tie up her hair. She definitely meant business. Cheryl had to smile at the sight and she suddenly realised how much she had missed this gentle banter and rivalry. Sabrina was no Jason, but perhaps Cheryl needed a friend. 

“What do you say?” Sabrina asked her, fishing coins out of her pocket. “Are you in? Or are you too scared to lose?”

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes and jumped on the platform as well, kicking off her boots. “Bring it on.” 

 

~

 

“What is this?” Jughead asked when he sat down in the cafeteria, waving his fingers between the two girls. “This looks like complicity. I don’t like it.”

 

Sabrina barked out a laugh. Cheryl just blushed. 

 

“And why is your tongue  _ blue _ ?” Jughead asked again, the question aimed at Sabrina who quickly shut her mouth. 

 

She shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, trying to keep her mouth as closed as possible, even while chewing gum. She gave up pretty quickly when Jughead started to stare down at her. “Okay! I had a couple gulps of Cheryl’s blue slurpee.”

 

Jughead frowned in confusion. “Cheryl’s?” 

 

“Yeah,” Cheryl admitted. “We had a bet and she lost so she had to buy me a slurpee.”

 

After everything that had happened, it was strange to be talking with Jughead over lunch, as casually as possible. Cheryl didn’t know how close Jughead and Sabrina were and she didn’t know if he had told her what had gone down between them back in Riverdale or if she was out of the loop like her aunts. 

 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself. I totally let you win.”

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes and tried to look unaffected by the comment, but her hammering heartbeat told her otherwise. 

 

“Where did you go anyway?” Jughead asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Sabrina seemed to tense beside her. 

 

“Out. Cheryl wasn’t feeling well so we skipped class to cheer her up,” Sabrina answered evasively. 

 

Jughead narrowed his eyes. “Where did you go?” 

 

Cheryl was sweating and she didn’t even know why. Sabrina, as cool and collected as ever, simply shrugged. “You know...just out and about.” 

 

Jughead huffed a laugh. “Unbelievable. She’s been here for two days and you’re already keeping secrets?” 

 

Sabrina grinned. “Maybe so.”

 

“Alright!” Jughead threw his hands up. “Well I’m gonna start telling our secrets, Spellman.” 

 

Sabrina didn’t even grace him with an answer. Instead, she leaned back in her seat and popped her bubblegum. Jughead set his jaw and turned towards Cheryl. 

 

Cheryl wouldn’t admit it, but their playful quarrel was very entertaining to her. In Riverdale, she surrounded herself with the River Vixens in an attempt to not feel alone, and be part of the gang. She never would’ve guessed that hanging out with Jughead Jones and a South side girl would bring her more joy than the whole cheerleading squad. 

 

“Cheryl,” Jughead leaned in over the table. “Did you know that in her free time, Sabrina like to perform magic tricks?” 

 

Cheryl’s face lightened up, a big smile splitting up her face. “Magic? Really?” Cheryl had built up a certain image in her head, where Sabrina was a cool, normal teenage girl. That nerdy side was definitely a twist that she would not have seen coming. 

 

Jughead nodded. “But here’s the best part,” he paused, throwing Sabrina a look as if he dared her to stop him. Cheryl gazed at her too and found that the girl looked a bit more nervous now, her arms crossed, chewing on her lip. “She totally sucks at it.” 

 

“I am still learning, what is so hard to understand about that!” Sabrina defended herself but nothing she said could stop Jughead and Cheryl from laughing at her poor skills. “Alright, alright. You laugh now but you won’t find it so funny when I turn you two into frogs.” 

 

Cheryl and Jughead simply laughed harder. 

 

“I’ll do it!” Sabrina threatened. 

 

“Don’t worry, Cheryl,” Jughead cracked up. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” 

 

“I don’t care,” Sabrina said, cheeks a faint red. “I’m still not telling you where we went, even if you keep making fun of me.” Sabrina turned to look at Cheryl, a kind of softness in her eyes Cheryl had not seen in a long time. “It’s our hideaway now.” 

 

Jughead, clueless, gave up with a shrug and quickly returned his attention to his sandwich. 

 

Cheryl’s heartbeat only kept going faster. 

 

~

 

Jughead’s door was ajar when Cheryl stopped in front of it one night but she knocked anyway. 

 

Cheryl was going to apologize. It was one thing spending time with the boy at school but they were also living under the same roof and Cheryl had this pit of guilt in her stomach every time they were left alone together. She had to make it right. 

 

“Come in,” she heard Jughead say so she gently pushed the door open. Jughead was sitting on his bed, laptop in his lap when he looked up to see Cheryl standing in front of him. “Oh, Cheryl. I didn’t expect it to be you.”

 

“I wanted to talk,” she said, going straight to her point. “I wanted to apologize.” 

 

Jughead smiled, a little confused. “Cheryl, you already did. Remember? Back at Riverdale High?” 

 

Cheryl shook her head. “No, this wasn’t—” she stopped herself. Those hadn’t been apologies, not really. “It wasn’t sincere. I did it to make amends, clear my conscience,” she explained. She didn’t want to die with so much guilt inside of her. 

 

Understanding dawned on Jughead but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. 

 

“So here’s my real apology. I’m sorry for everything I said and didn’t say. I’m sorry mocked you, insulted you and humiliated you. I’m sorry I never stood up for you even if you did for me. I’m sorry I made fun of you instead of helping you when you had nowhere to live. I’m sorry I yelled at you and hit you in front of the whole school and I’m sorry I accused your dad of killing my brother. I apologize for all of it,” she sighed. “Everything. And you don’t have to accept it, you don’t even have to acknowledge it. I just...needed you to hear it.”

 

Jughead stood up, without saying a word and Cheryl felt anxiety run through her blood. She had thought that the silence would be the best option but now, it was suffocating her. 

She watched him walk towards his dresser and open the top drawer. When he turned around, Cheryl’s heart stopped. 

 

In the palm of his hand was her precious red and gold spider brooch. 

 

“I think this belongs to you,” Jughead said as Cheryl tentatively reached out for the jewel. She had forgotten about it, tried to push the memory out of her mind. Still, every night when she closed her eyes, she was once again submerged in the icy water, her lifeless brother adrift next to her. The crushing sadness, however, followed her even when she got out of bed once the sun had risen. 

 

She couldn’t help but notice that the weight of the spider brooch in her hand felt wrong. The memories associated with it didn’t bring her joy anymore. It was simply a reminder of the darkest, lowest point in her life. 

 

She closed her fingers around it, a goodbye of some sort. When she unclenched her fingers, she felt at peace, more than she ever did in a long time. 

 

“It was gift,” she said, handing the brooch back to Jughead. 

 

Jughead shook his head. “You weren’t in a good place back then. You can have it back.”

Cheryl smiled. “Oh, Jughead. Hasn’t anyone ever told you it was rude to give gifts back?” She took a deep breath. “You’re right. When I first gave it to you, it was because I didn’t want to take it with me where I was going. But it is a gift. If anyone is worthy of the iconic spider brooch it’s you.” 

 

Jughead frowned, confusion clear on his face. Cheryl continued. 

 

“It’s for people like you and me. People who feel alone and nowhere at home. People who built a shell around themselves because they’ve been hurt too many times in the past. People who hide behind sarcasm and bitchiness because it’s easier than caring too much. I’ve had the spider brooch for a while now, but I have no use for it anymore. It’s yours.” 

 

Jughead nodded, the spider brooch back in his hand except this time, Cheryl hoped it wasn’t heavy with guilt. 

 

“You could pin it to your jacket,” Cheryl offered, pointing to the leather jacket crumpled on the chair. 

 

Jughead tensed and Cheryl didn’t know why. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that,” he smiled but it never reached his eyes. 

 

~

 

“Wow, I love your hair,” Sabrina said, carefully combing Cheryl’s long red hair. 

 

They were sitting on Cheryl’s bed, low music coming out of her laptop when Sabrina had asked Cheryl if she could braid her hair. 

 

“This feels nice,” Cheryl admitted. “I never had anyone play with my hair like that before.”   
  


“What about your mom?” Sabrina asked, brushing the hair softly to not hurt Cheryl. 

 

“Oh, no. My mother had better things to do. I had to figure it out by myself. Jason used to help me out though,” she paused, smiling at the memory. “He was actually kind of good.” 

 

“Do you miss him?” Sabrina asked, her voice so soft Cheryl almost didn’t feel the burning pain that always came with this kind of question. 

 

“Everyday,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, focusing on the way Sabrina’s fingers felt as she slowly separated the strands of hair. Sabrina hummed to the music and Cheryl smiled. She found out she didn’t hurt as much when she was with her. 

 

“If you could have any magic power, what would it be?” Sabrina asked her, twisting the strands of hair between her fingers. 

 

“What?” Cheryl asked, not following Sabrina’s train of thoughts. 

 

“I’m asking you which super power you’d choose if could have one,” she explained. “I’ll go first: if I could have any power in the world, I’d like to be able to fly.”

 

“Why?” Cheryl asked. “That’s pretty basic. You can do that with a plane, you know? You can have  _ any  _ powers and you choose to fly.”

 

“Hey!” Sabrina tugged on Cheryl’s hair. “Don’t judge my answer. It wouldn’t be like flying on a plane; I would be flying like a bird. Alone with the wind in my hair. Free.” 

 

Cheryl could imagine why someone would like that. When she explained, it didn’t sound like such a cliché idea. It sounded wistful, almost nostalgic. 

 

“What about you?” 

 

Cheryl thought about it. For as long as she could remember, she was always riddled with guilt, fearing that she was not a good enough daughter, or a good enough sister, driving away the people that actually dared care about her. 

 

“I wish I could go back in time,” she said, and she realised that this was the first time she actually admitted it to herself. 

 

She wished she could go back to when she was a kid, having fun with Jason and making friends at camp she’d never see again. Wish she could go back to the first day of high school and actually trying to be pleasant, reaching out to the other students and making meaningful friendships. Wish she could go back to that summer day on the Sweetwater river, wish she could warn Jason and try to save him. There were so many things she wished she had done differently, Cheryl wasn’t even sure a lifetime would be enough time to make it all right again. 

 

“Now,  _ that  _ is a stupid superpower,” Sabrina said, wrapping a hair tie at the bottom of the finished braid. “Why would you wanna go back? What’s done is done, princess! I mean, sure, you could go back but you’ll inevitably change the course of history. Maybe something even worse happens in the future. Haven’t you seen the Butterfly Effect?” 

 

Cheryl slowly grinned absentmindedly as she listened Sabrina ramble about the scientific facts that prove that ‘time-travel would be dangerous and should avoided at all costs’. 

 

“So what you’re saying is that if anything bad happens, and I go back to stop it from happening, it’s gonna happen anyway?” Cheryl asked, the smile dropping from her face. 

 

“No, you’re not listening. What I’m saying is that the only way to go is forward. Something shitty happens; what can you do about it? Nothing! But maybe something good can come out of the shittiest of situation,” she explained and Cheryl felt a wave of relief wash over her. 

 

Jason dying had to be about the shittiest situation she could ever come up with, but being here, having her hair braid by the Spellman girl who wished she could fly...there had to be something good about this. 

 

“You’re a real poet, Sabrina Spellman,” Cheryl told her as Sabrina handed Cheryl her little bedside mirror to show off her braiding skills. 

 

“Sabrina?” Jughead said, from the door frame, causing the two girls to turn their heads and look at him. “A poet? I must have heard that wrong.” 

 

“Shut up,” Sabrina said, apparently fighting off a smile while Cheryl chuckled. “Hey, help us out while you’re here. Which superpower is the dumbest: flying or time-travel?” 

 

Cheryl caught Jughead’s eyes, and he looked at her like he could read her mind. He looked at her like he could see the pain and the loneliness and the wishful thinking that was always on her mind. Cheryl thought maybe he could relate. 

 

“Flying, definitely,” he scoffed but Cheryl noticed the heartfelt look he threw her way. 

 

“Oh, come on!” Sabrina grumbled. “What would yours be, then?” 

 

“I wish I could be able to shut you up whenever you start annoying me,” Jughead joked and Cheryl laughed when Sabrina lunged at him with a “I’ll show you annoying!”.

 

She knew there was nothing that would ever fill the Jason-shaped hole in her heart; but as she looked at the girl who longed to fly and the former Riverdale outcast play-fight on her bedroom floor, she thought maybe some good, unexpected things would be able to patch it up. 


End file.
